


Drabbles

by cranky__crocus



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-28
Updated: 2010-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/cranky__crocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callie and Erica through time. Erica becomes human in the eyes of her colleagues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Totally not chronological in places. I was just writing these with the word-of-the-day, which is obvious in places. Not my favourite, but interesting in places.

I.

 

Erica sighed into the phone. She tried to let her exhalation be her answer, but knew Callie wouldn’t have it. Not that the blonde wanted to be on the phone at all.

            “No, Callie, the hospital is unconscionable. I refuse to let that place pull me down.”

            “’Pull you down’?” Callie repeated. “Is that what it’s done to me, then?”

            Erica held her breath.

            “Well fine. We wouldn’t want a hospital to mar Dr. Erica Fucking-Perfect Hahn down into the dumps. Not to save a friend or lover.”

            “‘Or lover’? Acknowledged once I’m gone?”

            “I love you and goodbye, Erica.”

 

 

II.

 

“Why do I deal with vacuous residents?” Erica inquired blankly at the ceiling.  The cardio surgeon’s eyebrow shot up. “Why are you asking me, an Attending with work up to her eyebrows, to help you fix a _water bubbler_?”

Izzie looked up with doe eyes and swallowed. “Ms. Midwest, I care about patients needing water. …And George choked, the fountain didn’t work and Callie mentioned your name. Can you fix it?”

“Do you expect me to channel Bob the Builder and respond excitedly, ‘Yes I Can!?’ Because I won’t. Go find a janitor: they get _paid_ for things like that.”

 

 

III.

 

Callie finished her speech on Bailey’s action over the young boy as Erica popped her salad’s last cherry tomato into her mouth. She chewed delicately while formulating an answer.

“I never thought her the type for wanton decisions like Stevens. I’ll admit I would have been tempted as well. I’m glad she had the sense to stop herself, even belatedly. It’s hard to lose a patient with history.”

The caramel female nodded. She had reflected the same and connected it to Izzie. It was nice talking to Erica again.

 _Friends with exes_ , she thought jovially. _Didn’t know it could work._

IV.

 

            “You’re so sexy…” Callie whispered into the yielding flesh before her. Erica was too far gone to hear, with arching back and gripping thighs. She seemed to appreciate the sentiment, certainly the actions stemming from it. The raven-haired female continued her lapping while her fingers stalled.

            Erica whimpered as she steadied and slumped.

            “I’m…seeing stars,” she panted. Callie swore she saw pale stars shining in Erica’s tear-glazed eyes.

            “Will the crying ever stop?” she asked kindly, smiling.

            “Hope not,” Erica answered honestly, smiling wider. One tear fell. “They’re from my elation with you.”

            Mark was right.  It was an honour.

 

 

V.

 

“No, Richard. You landed a world-class cardio surgeon. She’s refusing to kill another. This isn’t _Battle Royale_ of the cardiobuffs.” Erica stood from her desk to stare down the man.

“You’ve got the acclaim now—think what you’ll have when you’re done!” The last-ditch effort.

“I’ve thought about it: the corpse of a brilliant man or the corpse of a woman far stressed. I’m _Doctor_ Erica Hahn.  I have that title because I fix people. I don’t do steak knives to the heart.”

Richard pulled a look that read, ‘oh really?’ The last straw. She stormed from her own office.

 

 

VI.

 

“I’m not bemoaning a rotting porch, Dad, I just mentioned offhand needing to repair it…”

            The door to Erica’s door opened after a gentle knock, but both went unheard.

            “I don’t need a stupid carpenter! She’ll just get in the way! I can do this myself. I don’t need you giving me my life plan anymore,” the woman responded fiercely.

            Callie never had the chance to remove her hand from the doorknob. She went to close it as Erica turned, but the raven-haired woman had already fled.

            “Callie…” Erica whispered in her shock. She glared at the phone, “GoodBYE, Dad.”

 

 

VII.

 

            Erica found Callie whimpering behind her old-school blue convertible like a neglected canine. It broke Erica’s heart.

            “Callie…” she started, but faltered. Teary brown eyes looked up.

            “I’m not that bad,” she said with a sniff. “I can do more than break bones.”

            Hahn was dropped for sensitive Erica as she walked up to the femme and sat. She couldn’t help soft laughter. “Callie, oh Callie, that was my father. I have a porch in need of repair.”

            Callie gazed at her suspiciously. “Really?”

            “Really.”

            “You know I studied some carpentry in high school, right?”

            “Really?”

            “Really.”

            Laughter and hugs.

 

 

VIII.

 

            Callie rolled her eyes at the salad before her. Erica caught on and laughed.

            “I swear, sometimes the food in this canteen seems more like victuals for poorly-fed soldiers than meals for sterile surgeons.” The two chuckled as Mark passed by.

            His eyebrows shot up. “Some of us have avoided the homosexuality and aren’t so sterile…”

            “Mark,” Dr. Hahn greeted with false amiability. “I believe it wasn’t the sterility of my body that had you drawn to it…” The woman’s eyebrows bobbed.

            He blushed and turned away, mumbling. Callie laughed through lettuce.

            “That will get me through your porch job.”

 

 

IX.

 

            “She chaffed me in the canteen,” Mark complained to Little Grey in the elevator as he thought of the Hahninator. He shook his head. He gave the whole story including, to his great horror, his _feelings_. “She’s emasculating just in presence, I swear.”

            The little brunette femme pushed him against the cool metal with her hips. “Would you like some help with that, darling? We’re not all sterile, as you said…”

            For the second time that day he blushed. He had never been a blusher. What WAS it about the Seattle Grace women that could do that to a bloke?

 

 

X.

 

            Callie gazed down at her nails as she worked the wood up from the porch. A mumble escaped her lips. “Izzie’s right, she does always have better fingernails than I have…”

            “Let’s not talk about that defalcating woman at present,” Erica said serenely as she ‘sunbathed’ under the overcast sky on the remainder of her porch, being useless. “Why would she say you have bad nails?”

            “Said George liked femininity.” Grunt and heave. “Apparently I don’t have.”

            “Bull,” the other woman called over. “You just have lesbian nails.”

            Callie gave her a look. “Not very femme then. Now come HELP!”

 

 

XI.

 

            “You really are a virtuoso with this carpentry stuff,” Erica admitted after a huff as she pulled off a segment of wood with Callie’s help. “There’s no way you only studied this in high school.”

            The other blushed. “With so many brothers, I sort of fell into the crowd of masculinity. Whenever we had house problems my mother, sister and I joined in as much.”

            “Ah. Education via the family. That’s how I learned to shoot.”

            “You can SHOOT? Like, GUNS?”

            “No, like, Republicans.” Erica’s eyebrow rose. “But yes with guns.”

            Torres laughed. “You’re too much. Terrorize your neighbors?”

            “Always.”

 

 

 

XII.

 

            Callie was on Hahn in a second, tickling her sides. Erica, unwitting of the raven woman’s actions, screeched bloody murder when she felt her sides flame with sudden prodding contact.

            “Would you have shot me?” the captor whispered with a winning grin.

            “Absolutely. We were also taught not to be gay, and you’re too much a temptation.”

            “Oh, ouch. Midwesterners. Silly. Floridians are fine with gay provided they’re skinny chicks in bikinis.”

            Erica laughed. “Provided they’re ready to jump right back in with guys once the film stops running.”

            That received more tickling. Callie bit the earlobe before her. “Naughty.”

 

 

XIII.

 

Another hour of intense labour passed. Erica was wiping her brow with a splintered hand and Callie looked her ordinary Sex Goddess self. It eluded Hahn.

            “Your mere presence here denigrates my woodworking skills,” Erica drawled as she pushed a stake away with her foot.

            “My dear, that is because you _have_ no skill.”

            “Now your words mock me!”

            “They only mock the deserving.”

            It was Callie's turn to experience the merciless tickling. She cried for clemency upon dropping a plank on her toe, but Erica Hahn was in her renowned sadistic mood. Callie was doomed to further giggle fits.

 

 

XIV.

 

            A car pulled up Erica's driveway and stopped a distance away. Erica groaned as she saw Mark, Derek, Chief, Lexie and Meredith pile out. A second car arrived bearing Cristina, Izzie, Alex, George and even Bailey. Hahn's eyes widened at the clown car occurrence.

            “What are you doing on my property?” she sneered at Sloan.

            “Don't give me your high-handed attitude today, oh cardio goddess,” he rebuffed and pulled a six pack from behind his back. “Callie says party, I say let's go.”

            Erica looked to her girlfriend, frowning. “Seriously?”

            “Seriously _not_. Don't hold me accountable for _his_ stupid imagination.”

 

 

XV.

 

            “Seriously? A party at Hahn's? You say we're going somewhere cool to party and you bring us to _Hahn's_?” Cristina demanded. She turned to Mer.“Your boyfriend lacks sense.”

            “As do you, Yang, for those comments,” Erica retorted, her eyebrows cross above stormy dark eyes.

            Izzie stepped up, her big blue eyes as toady as her speech. “Oh please, Doctor Hahn?  Sloan and Shepherd dragged us here instead of Joe's, so we could all get time together. Said Callie was helping you out.”

            “She was, until all this nonsense started up,” the blonde responded tersely. “Fine, you can all stay.”

 

 

XVI.

 

            The raven-haired osteopath sent a grateful and giddy look. The blonde cardio surgeon rolled her eyes in response, but a delicate pull was noticeable on one side of her pink lips. She was also swallowing laughter. Today was just too weird, even for Seattle Grace standards.

            “So who’s giving me free beer for putting this on?”

            Sloan looked up first. “Me, and I’ve got your favourite.”

            “Toast to you at least knowing me well enough for that.” She plucked one from the case and disappeared into the house. “I’ll put on some music.”

            Callie shook her head, sighing. “Not country…”

 

 

XVII.

 

When a milky middle finger ghosted out from behind the doorframe, Callie could only laugh.She moseyed up the wooden steps and into the house, almost stumbling over one of Erica’s massive medical tomes near the doorway. Erica was organised, she just wasn’t always neat.

            “You don’t want to play something with a better beat?” Callie inquired.

            “I’m a Midwesterner. My bones know the country beat.”

            “Oh, but I’m a virgin to it…” the other murmured and stepped up to her blonde friend, pressing their hips together and jerking without grace. “Don’t you want experienced steps from your partner?”

            “Yes…”

 

 

XVIII.

 

However, Erica was forward, not easy to convince. “…but who says we will be dancing?”

            The contact ended as Hahn moved to the kitchen to fetch glasses and trays. She did know how to host, she just preferred not to. That generally required friends—which she generally didn’t have, and now genuinely did.

            She felt a warm front pressed to her sensitive back, just breezed free of the sweat under her shirt. The imposing blonde bit her lip and attempted to mask other signs as she continued along her way. A leg wrapped around hers halted her tracks.

            “I say.”

 

 

XIX.

 

“I say it’s my party and I can avoid dance if I want to,” Erica inflected hurriedly, immediately growing embarrassed of her ridiculous retort; she knew better.  Her cheeks grew flushed with colour. She faltered.  “If you won’t let me, I can cry if I want to…”

            “Because the _Great_ Doctor Erica Hahn, Badass Cardio Extraordinaire, would cry in front of a party of colleagues over not wanting to dance with her best friend and dancing partner… Perfect sense, no?”

            “I hate that you can stay logical when we’re touching. It’s the bane of my existence.”

            But her hips twitched.

 

XX.

 

Erica groaned at her ridiculous hormone-driven hips. They swayed with the awkward country beat. Suddenly she too wished she had had the insight to put on a proper party mix.

            Mark journeyed through the living room like he owned the place and, without glancing up, changed the music to something steamy and punk.

            “Excuse me!” Hahn called over Callie.

            “Did she honestly think she’d be playing that?” The plastics man asked the Latina.

            Callie grinned and twirled around her girl. “Don’t you dare have the myopia to think that others won’t see us; we’re too sexy for that.”

            Erica sighed.

 

 

XXI.

 

Izzie wandered in with her regular pinchbeck smile, Alex dragged along as her toy boy. The blonde stopped before entering the kitchen and commenced random arm-dancing. Karev ducked to be out of the way.

            “I love this song!” Silly blonde called to her boy.

            Mer hopped up onto the porch and dragged her pseudo-girlfriend Cris up with a yank on the surgeon’s arm. “And we’re dancing!”

            “Seriousy?” the dark-haired surgeon drawled. “So couldn’t tell.”

            “This is a party. At my house,” Erica stuttered, eyeing Callie in utter shock.

            “Yeah. Welcome to the world of the social.”

            “…in my living room…”

 

 

 

XXII.

 

            After an interminable time of dancing for Erica, she managed to shoo the colleagues from within her house (her sacred space!) to the confines of her yard and porch. At least there they would cause fewer issues, _hopefully_.

            No one, after all, could take account for the complete and utter idiocy of one Isobel Stevens.

            “You should loosen up,” her girlfriend told her with a sultry smile. “I could help.”

            “You should keep parties from spontaneously occurring at your neurotic girlfriend’s house,” Erica stated tartly.

            “You think you’re neurotic? We have a neurosurgeon on the party list, just in case…”       

 

 

XXIII.

 

            A full scourge of consternation overtook Erica as she thought what this would do to her work reputation. She was angered by the fact that it hadn’t occurred to her sooner. Callie was clearly a bad influence, blocking the cardio surgeon’s mind from important things like professional reputation. Seattle Grace was the most gossipy, catty hospital she had ever set foot in, let alone worked in.

            “What will people say at work?” she whispered to Callie, eyes frantic.

            The younger woman laughed and placed a hand on Erica’s leg. “They’ll say, ‘Damn, I wish Hahn broke her porch more often.’”

 

 

XXIV.

            Erica’s lips were hermetically pressed. She did not like the idea of having the reputation for good parties. She looked out over the yard at happily dancing couples, smiling with beer and laughter. Meredith’s head was thrown back in a howl of laughter. Derek’s laughter in response was a hearty set of barks.

            How often did she get to see this? At work, being the Ice Queen, she only saw the defence mechanisms put up in place against her.

            These people were human. It was one thing to hear hospital talk, another to see it.

            How terrible could it be?

 

 

XXV.

 

            Dr. Hahn frowned at the tumult that was the hospital’s canteen. She couldn’t fathom how she put up with this on a near-daily frequency.

            “Hello Doctor Hahn!” an intern greeted from the far right. “How did your surgery go?”

            The blonde was shocked. She was being addressed kindly, inquisitively and intelligently by an intern. She paused unsurely. “Well, it went...well.”

            “Glad to hear it! Read about the last one and the complication. I’m sure you’re psyched to have fixed it up.”

            “I am, actually, thank you,” Dr. Hahn responded, slightly smiling. She greeted Callie.

            “An intern—”

            “You’re human now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! (:


End file.
